Waverly's Woes
by who is sabrina
Summary: Waverly checks on his team after a mission, and gives them a few days off. But is a little vacation a good thing? Waverly has his doubts. Disclaimer: I don't own The Man From U.N.C.L.E.


Waverly strolled easily down the lavish hallway of the hotel, his hands in his pockets. He was headed to Napoleon Solo's room, where he knew he would likely find all three of his agents. They had just completed a rather tricky assignment, and though they had accomplished it quickly and efficiently, Waverly wanted to go check on them in person. Though he might not admit it, he had a soft spot for his funny little team. So he stopped at Room 458, turned the handle to find that it was unlocked, and then started to swing the door open.

"Waverly," Solo and Kuryakin greeted simultaneously, before Waverly had even stepped into the room.

"Hullo, team," he returned happily, a little curious as to how they had known it was him. But as he shut the door behind him, he realized they must have heard his footsteps and recognized them as his own. _Excellent attention_ , he noted proudly.

Striding further into the room, he saw that all three members of his team were piled together onto one couch. On the left was Napoleon Solo, carefully cleaning the various parts of his deconstructed gun. On the right, Illya Kuryakin was reading a book one-handed, seemingly engrossed. His other hand, Waverly was interested to note, was entwined around Gaby's, who had laid her head in his lap. She was sound asleep and looked completely comfortable, her crossed legs draped over Solo's lap. Solo, in turn, was using her legs as a table of sorts, little pieces of his gun sitting neatly atop her bare skin. Waverly took a moment to look them over, pleased to see that they all looked unhurt, and even more pleased at their casual interaction. Illya, sensing Waverly's continued gaze, lowered his book slightly and looked up.

"Something wrong?" the Russian wondered. Solo, too, set the piece he was currently cleaning down on Gaby's legs, and looked up to see what Waverly wanted.

"Oh, no," Waverly told them genially. "Nothing wrong. Just wanted to see how you all were holding up after that last assignment."

"Oh," Solo said, sounding vaguely surprised.

"We're fine," Kuryakin said, after a moment of silence. "Thank you." The Russian looked faintly pleased, but also uncomfortable. Clearly, neither agent was used to such a show of personal interest from their commander.

"Very good," Waverly remarked, nodding. At his voice, Gaby stirred from her sleep, opened her eyes, and saw Waverly.

"Waverly!" she started, surprised. Immediately, she sat up, spilling the parts of Solo's gun all over the floor.

"Thanks," Solo told her sarcastically, glaring without any real heat. Gaby ignored him, smoothing out her dress and hair, clearly trying to make herself presentable for Waverly.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Do we have another mission?"

"No," Waverly informed them, and they looked surprised. He looked around, settled easily into an armchair across from them, and continued. "Not yet, anyway. Actually, I wanted to let you all know that you've got a few free days to spend here in the city. Some time to relax before your next assignment."

"Oh, yes!" Gaby cheered immediately, looking excitedly at the agents beside her. "We could go-"

"No!" Illya and Napoleon groaned, before she even finished.

"Oh, come on," Gaby urged, but Illya's face was set in a scowl, and Napoleon had gone back to cleaning his gun. Waverly, watching them, was struck by just how in tune they were with each other. Gaby hadn't even finished her sentence, and yet both Solo and Kuryakin had known what she was going to say. He watched as Solo bent down to pick up the other pieces of his gun that Gaby had scattered on the floor, and then sat up again, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You know," Napoleon began, and the Russian's expression clearly conveyed that he already didn't like where the American was going with this. "I could always stay here," Solo continued. "Hold the fort, so to speak. And you two could go-"

"No," Kuryakin interrupted, firmly. "We would come back to find you've... robbed a bank or something."

"Robbed a bank?" Solo echoed, with a disbelieving laugh. "Honestly..." He shook his head, as if disappointed. "Didn't you guys see the jewelry shop just down the street?"

"Okay!" Waverly shouted, ending the conversation abruptly and getting to his feet. "I'd rather like to remain in the dark about what you're all going to do with your free time." So saying, he turned and headed for the door. "And Solo," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Hear what, sir?" Solo asked innocently, and Gaby rolled her eyes.

"Kuryakin," Waverly continued. "Keep him in check."

"Yes, sir," the Russian replied politely.

"And Gaby, do try to keep them in as little trouble as possible," he requested wearily. "I'd prefer you all to be in one piece for your next mission."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Gaby smiled, eyes twinkling in amusement. Satisfied, Waverly looked again at them all, took in their happy expressions, the easy interaction between them, the weird sort of wavelength they all seemed to operate on.

"Very well, then," he said, reaching behind him and opening the door. "Good night," he nodded.

"Good night," Gaby replied happily, and Solo and Kuryakin nodded back at him. The last thing he saw as he shut the door was Gaby heading for the record player, and Solo crossing to the small table upon which sat several jars of liquor and some empty crystal glasses.

Sighing, Waverly stood in the hallway just in front of their door, an odd sense of foreboding coming over him. Who knew what sort of crazy situations his team would get into during their time off? He shook his head. This was ridiculous. Did he have to be more worried about his agents when they were on vacation than when they were on a mission? And as he stood there, trying to reassure himself, he heard the door open behind him, and he turned. Napoleon Solo was smiling at him, and Waverly could hear some upbeat music in the background.

"Don't worry, Waverly," Solo said, still grinning broadly. "We won't get caught," he winked, and then he shut the door once more. With a long-suffering sigh, Waverly ran a hand through his hair and then strode back down the hallway. Yes, his team's missions were tough, but their vacation time was truly _dangerous_.


End file.
